Good poems

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Translation of Lucius Afranius "Auctio"

© MikeM70

Auctio

Simul límen intrabo, ílli extrabunt ílico. 
adeste, si híc absente nóbis uenierít puer.

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My truth of life

© KateZ

Never is so bad to be worst but everything bad is good for sth.

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The Emigrants: Book II

© Charlotte Turner Smith

Scene, on an Eminence on one of those Downs, which afford to the South a view of the Sea; to the North of the Weald of Sussex. Time, an Afternoon in April, 1793.


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The Emigrants: Book I

© Charlotte Turner Smith

Scene, on the Cliffs to the Eastward of the Town of

Brighthelmstone in Sussex. Time, a Morning in November, 1792.

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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 6. One writes, that Other Friends Rem

© Alfred Tennyson

O mother, praying God will save
Thy sailor,--while thy head is bow'd,
His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud
Drops in his vast and wandering grave.

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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 54. Oh, yet we Trust that somehow Goo

© Alfred Tennyson

Behold, we know not anything;
I can but trust that good shall fall
At last--far off--at last, to all,
And every winter change to spring.

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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 131. O living will that shalt endure

© Alfred Tennyson

O true and tried, so well and long,
Demand not thou a marriage lay;
In that it is thy marriage day
Is music more than any song.

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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 105. To-night ungather'd let us leave

© Alfred Tennyson

Let cares that petty shadows cast,
By which our lives are chiefly proved,
A little spare the night I loved,
And hold it solemn to the past.

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In Memoriam A. H. H. Obiit MDCCCXXXIII: 3. O Sorrow, cruel

© Alfred Tennyson

And shall I take a thing so blind,
Embrace her as my natural good;
Or crush her, like a vice of blood,
Upon the threshold of the mind?

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Shut Up And Eat Your Toad

© James Tate

The disorganization to which I currently belong

has skipped several meetings in a row

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Loyalty

© James Tate

This is the hardest part:

When I came back to life

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Head of a White Woman Winking

© James Tate

She has one good bumblebee

which she leads about town

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Happy As The Day Is Long

© James Tate

I take the long walk up the staircase to my secret room.

Today's big news: they found Amelia Earhart's shoe, size 9.

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Goodtime Jesus

© James Tate

Jesus got up one day a little later than usual. He had been dream-
ing so deep there was nothing left in his head. What was it?
A nightmare, dead bodies walking all around him, eyes rolled
back, skin falling off. But he wasn't afraid of that. It was a beau-
tiful day. How 'bout some coffee? Don't mind if I do. Take a little
ride on my donkey, I love that donkey. Hell, I love everybody.

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Dream On

© James Tate

Some people go their whole lives

without ever writing a single poem.

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Good Advice

© Ruth Stone

Here is not exactly here


because it passed by there

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The Comedian As The Letter C

© Wallace Stevens

379 Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,
380 With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?
381 No, no: veracious page on page, exact.

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from Amoretti: Sonnet 67

© Edmund Spenser

Like as a huntsman after weary chase,


Seeing the game from him escap'd away,

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Amoretti LXVII: Like as a Huntsman

© Edmund Spenser

Like as a huntsman after weary chase,

Seeing the game from him escap'd away,

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A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty

© Edmund Spenser

Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,

Through contemplation of those goodly sights,